Joy
by Pianist707
Summary: How would you judge ice sculptures? Elsa, on the few hours she is spared, ruminates with the abilities she has all her life that she is still coming to familiarize with. These are one of those nights. A two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings, this is another tribute to Elsa and exploration of her personality! There was meant to be more of a story to be handed over here, but then I decided that I could post it as a separate chapter, to give it some spacing. **

**One thing that highlights my appreciation for Elsa is her abilities (but not how she treats them for most of the story). If I was during that time and I saw her conjure random things out of snow or ice, I'd be flailing-gesturing to what she was doing. But how much does she fully accept and administer her powers? After the time she thawed the kingdom, you know? She did make a palace out of you-know-what. And maybe, with all her time occupied in her rule, she has nightly outings and it sometimes goes like this.**

**Also, I wish this story makes sense.**

**Disclaimer: Disney owns Frozen and its awesomesauce characters.**

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**Joy**

_A two-shot_

_Chapter One_

The moon was full tonight, marking the end of July as it glistened onto the lake and fjord with its natural luminescence.

In the heart of it all, was Elsa. Dressed in ice like weeks ago, she stared at the celestial shapes silently, soaking up their brilliance as she reached the sandbar leading to the waters. Its surface reflected a young woman instead of a child playing dress up, a sight that comforted her. In the moon and stars, she felt small, although she was connected to nature on a grander, more innate scale.

Here she stood, no longer confined from using her powers, manning the kingdom as she would without the pressing judgment that came when her powers were the subject.

To experiment, she set a heel above the water, marveling when the near contact brought crystallization. Each stride triggered thin, sturdy platforms spreading in controlled pulses as she traveled further down the lake, the water lapping at her creations with ripples. She halted in her icy peninsula, trusting it to support her weight.

_Well._ _This is quite an experience. _Elsa clasped each of her elbows and gazed at the moon, blinking heavily as if she was in the sun's glare. A breeze skimmed past her, accenting the solitude that came with a calm night. _Only very few would have moments like these in their lifetime._ Pivoting, she counted twelve platforms and many meters, intrigued by her own snowflake motif. Another glance returned to the stretch of the fjord. She could do so much more.

Exploration in ice and snow, to be exact.

Even if the instances she used her abilities shadowed the amount from the course of thirteen years, more than half of her life, she had second thoughts. Thinking before she leaped was her second nature, unlike the bold acts by her sister frequently made, although well-meaning. No one wanted another summer chill, even if her people had come to accept her powers. _Well, most of them have._

Elsa sighed, taking a final look at her reflection. With a step, she swept her arms broadly. Swirling powder flourished from nowhere, and she raised her hands, curling them into fists.

The snowflakes halted in midair, and she squinted at them wonderingly. They were like brushstrokes on a painter's canvas. Even if what she made would not always be large, the details pleased her.

A thought popped into her head, and out of curiosity, she clapped.

They burst like confetti, and she almost blundered off her platform and into the water. She pinwheeled her arms counter-clockwise to remain dry. "Wow," she breathed after regaining her balance, slicking back the bangs that had slipped onto her forehead. _Finally, it's beautiful. _For once of a few times, ice bent to her will and became a harmless presence.

Her heart flipped in her chest as she conjured stalagmites, then shapes, then suspended snow, then countless things that resembled objects.

Elsa almost generated the guts to make a pair of oars and a boat, but caught herself in time. Her powers were fresh, still foreign to her. Extents remained questionable. Ice had a dangerous yet delicate nature simultaneously, all left with her.

Just as it crossed her mind, her excitement diminished. During the rush, she had reached the middle of Arendelle's deep lake.

If she had released it too far…

Doubts were forming on her conscience as she dispelled most of her creations with cancelling motions while retreating to the sandbar, noting dully that the moon was winked out by altostratus clouds. She was clearly getting past curfew. The work of a ruling monarch ended with their final breath. _It's too far to be getting these ideas,_ _Elsa._ She chided herself. While she enjoyed the release, she wished Anna could have seen her practice. Or she could make one more.

"One more." She repeated to herself, voice barely over a whisper. Not as soaring and broad as the castle she preserved in the mountains, but this was her dabbling in a rare art. She was her only teacher, unfortunately.

_How would you judge ice sculptures? To make it different—a good different?_ Her younger sister's words involuntarily placed a smile on her lips. She wanted to capture a feeling she could not name.

The platform beneath Elsa wavered slightly, and the young woman caught herself, stabilizing it with fresh sheen of frost. _Get to work. Perform, orchestrate. _ She quickly placed a hazy image in her mind. _Just let it be._

Taking a deep breath and long strides, she straightened and positioned her hands at front, glazing the lake's surface; she wanted her creation to hold. Soundlessly, she scoured the view with her eyes, absorbing the silence, waiting for nothing in particular. She bit her lip.

Elsa thrusted coils over the waters, urging them upwards to swirl like liquid silver. With precision she paved smooth edges and ragged splinters onto a translucent spire that rose high, giving the structure a frayed appearance while it climbed to a height that seemed to match against the mountains.

Rough ice—they formed nodes. Smooth, looping swells—they formed four petals and more curling within, blooming above the stem. Their gentle curves drooped back to show wrinkly details.

Elsa was out of steam once she conjured ice to hold her creation afloat. Chest heaving, she slipped to the end of her platform and sat, allowing a satisfied smile cross to her face. The moon had returned, casting light on the broad shape, which she examined from afar, humming thoughtfully.

It was like a kaleidoscope of blue, broken shards of the color shining on the water and illuminating the surrounding night. She wanted to look at it forever, but when a chill unrelated to her abilities settled on her bones, she pushed off, resigning for the night. From her experience, she hoped dearly that the ice sculpture would remain in sight when she woke up.

_What could it look like from the view from the window, in the morning?_ She could only dream.

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**Frozen gives me lots 'o feels.**

**Okay; the title was sort of inspired by "Joy to the World", which could've been the title of this story, but I don't do justice in expressing one big emotion. I was also listening to Claude Debussy's _Danse Styrienne Tarantelle_, _Reunited_ and _Sante Fe_ by Emily Bear, and maybe Tchaikovsky's _Waltz of the Snowflakes_, and anything of them could be picked up if you want to get in the moody accompaniment.**

**This was a lot of internal conflict here. Is what she's thinking pretty clear? If so, I'm glad. **

**I can take constructive criticism and reviews, if I left something hanging, tips, and if this does sound like Elsa? (I know she's pretty expressive but repressed.)**

**Also, even if I poke around with this, there's bound to be some grammatical errors and punctuation problems. It should be pointed out.**

**Sincerely,**

**Pianist707**

**P.S. Creation symbolism is in here~!**


	2. Chapter 2

**It's been a month! I'm sorry for the people expecting the second chapter to spring after the first, but after weeks of plotting, I just half-skidded my way here for the last three days. O_O Outlines are not helpful for me, apparently. It took three follow-ups for the beginning before it stuck.**

**I enjoyed the first chapter, but the second one feels forced on and the last ending might turn out cheesy, so if you thought the first chapter was a standalone, then okay, don't let this shatter the first! This was written with "What would Elsa do?" in mind. Containing her powers for the majority of her life and now freely forming them to her own desires makes her want to...do something about it.**

**I thought that she thought while humming, with the beat of Let it Go:**

**"This is nice, out of ice; it matches the great fjord. And now I, wonder why, I haven't done this before~!"**

**Now, moving along...**

**(4/18 - Reposted it with the final edit of the chapter! I'd uploaded the wrong one, sorry!)**

** Disclaimer: Disney owns Frozen and its awesomesauce characters.**

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**Joy**

_Chapter Two_

_A two-shot_

_Knock, knock, knock-knock, knock._

Stirring, Elsa cracked open an eyelid. Within her morning drowsiness, she still picked up the particular five-beat tapping at her doorstep. That little rhythm was forever bored into her memory, driven too far for her to forget, and too stubborn to depart.

She folded the covers and rose slowly to a sitting position, muffling a yawn. Stretching her limbs absently and crossing her legs, she left the world of infinite possibilities to reenter a place with more…realistic choices. A few seconds of peace was what she needed for now. Glancing to her left, she caught the flicker of the curtains that veiled the sun, and her lopsided smile wavered slightly.

Her nightly pastime had slightly drained her for the morning bustle, but she pushed through, blinking and resisting the impulse to slip into the duvet's wonderful warmth. It had been worth the lost sleep, though, seeing the ice pave across the sky and water, sleek as silk, cascading into numerous forms with a mere thought, an inkling, giving birth to a greater pronounced image.

Her chosen flower was committed to her memory, from sheer volumes of books she read as a young girl. It spoke the new beginnings, and blossomed during winter. Amazingly, the details were distinct despite the distance, leaving her even in more pride of her own creation. She was certain now that oars and boat would be an easy feat for her. Or a myriad of snowmen.

_That would be wonderful._

Then Elsa recalled the rhythmic tapping. She cleared her throat, sweeping her hair back across her shoulder. "Come in." she called. She spent the last seconds tidying her nightdress.

Whatever fatigue she still possessed was banished once Anna entered the room. In both senses, it was as if she brought the sun.

She did not account for the ice harvester to follow. Immediately she thrust away her imagination and musings from her mind, but her grim analysis did the rest. _They wouldn't._ She gave them each a tiny wave, straightening in her bed like a pin. "Good morning, Anna, Kristoff."

"Hi!" Anna's right hand fluttered madly, grinning. In a non-conspicuous way, she poked Kristoff's right side, sending her companion's lips thinning. "Why are you so stiff?" she whispered.

Kristoff shifted his stance, eyes darting to Elsa before they returned to the floor. To her surprise, he took a deep bow, his bangs falling over his eyes. If he had not removed his hat, it would have fallen along.

His first words were mutters. "Because, _Anna_, your sister's the queen of this very kingdom."

At this, Elsa felt her face reddening.

"I know that!" Anna huffed, feigning annoyance.

"It's great to see you, Your Majesty, although it's pretty early." Kristoff continued. Abruptly, he became flimsy around the ends, nowhere near the sturdy, mindful young man Elsa would glimpse within him whenever he kept Anna and her expeditions sane.

Elsa raised a hand, and it seemed the next words died on his tongue. He drew himself out from the bow, his towering height almost compelling her to shrink. "It's alright, Kristoff. You may call me Elsa…" she cleared her throat as quietly as she could manage. _He's tall. And we're awkward—Anna's mannerisms are rubbing off of me! She's very influencing…I'll stop right here. _

Kristoff seemed to seize Elsa's silence as the end, using it to burst through. "Could I?" He asked timidly.

"Certainly. I don't mind, Kristoff." Elsa paused. They were still on vague relations. Her footing around him felt delicate as a frozen lake in early autumn, stumbling away from the light spots on the water, fearing to shatter the surface. Taking after her younger sister, she blurted, "If you have time to spare, maybe we can share…tea once in a while?"

_My life skills are excellent._

She inwardly smacked her forehead, going instead to smooth the imaginary wrinkles of her covers, wishing to sink in, but responsibility made her stay put.

Fortunately, the ice harvester brightened. "Yes, I would like to!" he replied, his enthusiasm wiping off her self-frustration. "I never had a sip of tea, but you could do the honors and show me your favorite brews, or…" he shrugged.

Elsa felt her lips lift. "That's the first thing we'll do." she replied assuringly. It nearly flipped when she glanced back at the drawn curtains. Hazily she recalled having things to do, in forms of corridor navigating and discussion with the parliament. Today was heavy business, and she would be staying inside longer than she favored. "Anna, what are you here for?" she asked.

"Oh, we were just casually watching the sunrise and saw something absolutely fantastic."

"What was it?" Elsa encouraged.

"I know you did it, Elsa—you're just as great!" Anna spluttered. Her spontaneity inspired her, bursting with vigor and all full-hearted. The sole reason for the sculpture's existence. "When did you do it?" her sister kept turning to look at her curtained window, as if she expected them to part and sear her eyes.

"Last night." Elsa replied. "Why?"

Anna rushed over, sitting across from her. "Come. On. If you wanna see your work at a better spot..." Elsa could not help but stretch the time, arching an eyebrow. She wound up gasping as the strawberry blonde plopped onto her chest, not holding back, alike to long ago. Kristoff watched them in plain amusement, the royal pair of sisters letting loose.

"Faster, let's have a look!"

Elsa smiled as she was dragged by her sister's hand, racing to the window. Nodding at her sister, she stepped towards the balcony, parting the curtains.

At first, she saw the sun and its position, reading the time. "…It's barely seven." She noted matter-of-factly. It meant only eight hours were spent. Stepping forward and basking in the sultry heat, she halted at the end of the balcony and looked down.

"You know, I'm pretty sure when everyone wakes up and sees it, they'll all go, 'Wow, that is the biggest non-flower flower I've ever seen!'" Anna was saying, and Elsa nodded to both acknowledge and agree.

Farther away, she held the benefit of the doubt that her angle facing her creation was dwarfed from her perch in the castle. Something light registered in her chest. It was a _near_ replica of the flowers she would see by the window sill. She faced Anna, who was briefly joined by Kristoff.

"You recognize it?" she asked.

"Of course, it's the crocus!"

"Isn't that Arendelle's crest?" Kristoff guessed. Imperceptively, the sisters nodded; Anna vigorously, while Elsa did not seem to bob her head at all.

"The view here is even greater." Elsa said, lacking words. From the balcony, her creation could be seen in another angle, a different light. _Perhaps_ a few lost hours were worth reviewing afterwards, in the morning.

And it was quite a spectacle.

The sunlight casting on the crocus made it appear like a thousand carat diamond, dazzling the water and nearby ships that were anchoring nearby, drawn by the soigné design. Little figures that bounded in a scattered formation to the sides of their ship adjacent to the flower were sailors running for a look.

Upon further examination, she drew a light breath.

Arendelle's full fleet had circled. They were giving her too much credit.

"Anna?" Elsa faced her sister while laying a hand on her right arm, taking note of the slight shiver the younger girl responded with. Smile faltering in awkwardness from seeing the pure awe on Kristoff's face, she asked, "What do you two think?" she ducked her face, "I know you two have seen my magic beforehand..."

Instead of a response, she was enveloped into a warm hug by the pair. She almost went slumping against their bodies to savor the heat that no duvets could rival. Lingering in each others' arms was what they did.

Anna, with warning, loosened up their hug and darted past her, dangerously near careening over the balcony fence as she drunk in the same view. "This is amazing, Elsa." she announced, gripping the wrought iron and grinning as wide as the crescent moon. "I mean, wow," her hands were askew, keeping up with her colorful descriptions until she finished with a blustery sigh.

"Thank you." Elsa replied, a steady smile on her lips, trying not to let her esteem swell. She loosened her shoulders and exhaled lightly. "This is the first time for a while that I've created something out of a pure idea." She cupped her hands behind her back, thoughtful. "I doubt I can't do any better."

"What do you mean? The castle—"

"Palace." Kristoff declared.

"Any word goes, but maybe it could be, well, like a humble ice cottage," Anna continued with a grin, and Elsa's eyebrows catapulted, "it had all these shapes, solid and all about measurements, and then the crocus is free!"

Elsa refrained from mentioning the massive headache she received upon finishing the structure in the mountains. She herself considered it as a shrine for her own meditation.

"I'd like to show you two what I've learned from last night." Elsa declared, convincing herself to be bold. Inwardly, the almost inbred trait to conceal tugged at her, but she strictly put it aside.

She stepped near the balcony edge besides her sister, aware that two pairs of eyes were honed on her back. With the ends of her dress whirling, she faced them. "Are you ready?" she asked softly.

She grinned as they nodded in unison.

Once again, Elsa found herself standing like a conductor waiting for the orchestra's attention, alert and composed. Instantly, her hands were the baton, billowing through the summer air. With an upward flick of her wrists, Elsa gestured forward, coaxing the swirling snow to whirl around the crocus, descending to the point it nearly skimmed the deep blue below, surprising her audience, she could hear, from their tell-tale comments.

Sustaining its flight she looked about, patient and focused as her control extended the white powder, tunneling into an arc. Elsa brought her hands to the front, waving them like a pair of joined gears and smoothly fanning them outwards, making four masses align themselves.

Without further ado, she swung her arms back and clapped, its sound clear and resonant.

The ice split the blank silence as it rippled through the water and tapered in the air. The four spots were now glazed as translucent, curved arches enclosed around the flower's stem and froze above the petals, giving a more surreal quality, a larger than life depiction captured from Elsa's soul. More ice ricocheted onto the inlet like fireworks.

Astounded at her success, it was dormant compared to the loud cheer that applauded her from below and behind.

"You could do this as often as you like!" Anna exclaimed, slamming a fist into an open palm. "You're the queen, after all."

"Anna, my title doesn't exempt me from everything." Elsa said, hiding a cheeky grin.

"Yes Elsa, not everything, but _some_ things…" Anna wiggled her eyebrows, and Elsa failed keeping her flat expression on; her earlier musings manifested and she burst into laughter, muffling it with a hand. "Not those things!"

"I'm not thinking whatever you're thinking."

"Well," Kristoff joined in, "Elsa…I love it—you and how you use your ice." His voice was gruff.

Elsa was beginning to nod, but halted at the sound of something she was no stranger to. She turned, and her hands clenched at the sight.

"What have I done?" Elsa asked Kristoff, surprised by how even her voice came. Worry wormed in her stomach and puzzlement clouded her mind, as the ice harvester muffled a sob escaping his throat. She took a step. "Kristoff, I'm sorry if I frightened you…" Involuntarily, she retracted a hand stretching forward. Slowly but surely, she was folding in on herself.

"Elsa," Anna darted her eyes behind her two. An uneasy smile popped onto her sister's lips, contrasting to the rising panic Elsa was feeling, "it's alright, he's—"

"No, there's nothing wrong!" Kristoff blurted, wiping his face. It was ruddy with tears and his voice strained, but underneath was a broad grin, throwing Elsa off course. Tears and mirth combined harmoniously, a sight she was unaccustomed to. They were separate feelings. _Aren't they?_

And yet the immense, invisible weight pressing on her lightened. "Then why are you crying?" she asked.

"Seeing what you do makes me…" the young man raised his voice through the tears. "…You're an extraordinary person, Elsa."

"Both of you, as well!" she blurted. The warmth overwhelmed her, and she wondered if the crocus would melt itself and shear into the lake, because by then, sweat beaded her brow.

Even if he was teary-eyed, the ice harvester glanced at Anna with his soggy grin. "Your sister needs hugs." And she remedied that.

Elsa maintained eye contact on Kristoff, going on. "I'm only starting." She admitted, holding tight to her comfort source. "My past is something else a problem that's persisted this whole time."

"Yeah." Anna agreed through the nightdress.

_When?_

Elsa sensed the unspoken question. She never doubted their connection, no matter how long they were apart.

"…Soon. I promise."

"Okay, Elsa, or I'll be hounding you in between breaks—but it has to be everything, and I'll tell you everything, too—Kristoff, do you need a tissue?" Anna produced it from areas unknown, and Elsa took the opening to glance down at the balcony. Her attention was diverted to below as her mind juggled her sleeping attire and abrupt use of her magic. Hopefully her hair did not look struck by lightning.

"Sven needs to see this." She heard Kristoff murmur from afar. It was followed by a snort, muffled by a hankerchief. She herself peeked at the gathering of sailors, who gave her their full attention once she noticed, waving their arms as they congratulated her out through the open air. The distant murmur pricking beneath the balcony had her mind teeming in ideas. The kingdom was stirring, and she could pick out other figures on land, drawing near the sculpture that shined unnaturally with the summer setting.

Previously, she felt the love of two people—_only two _that were close to her heart and mind.

_Have I really included Arendelle into the mix?_ She returned their waves, smiling as wide as she could manage.

Her first impression of their cowering and gasps mixed with another, slowly learning, understanding, and now finally seeing who she truly was: the queen, both of royalty and snow.

They cheered…for her. Sided by Anna's smile, Kristoff's words, and the sun's gaze, they held her in high approval and love.

In the sunlight, this was a moment she truly reveled in, time-locked with her memories.

_Perfect._

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**Thank you for reaching the end and completion of 'Joy'! Hopefully, it wasn't rushed, and ****I pulled off their characterization and wasn't too subtle-y. I have lots of references and symbolisms that are probably tiny. They were the crocus and Elsa's movement!**

**You know those first twelve platforms Elsa creates before the largest one supports her crocus sculpture? It stands as the years she's spent in isolation, painful and constricted, until the thirteenth, where she releases the length of her powers, and takes a big leap. And expression!**

**The alteration of the crocus references the castle's own, by showing how she feels secure and free and with her beloved people...I'm fangirling over here.**

**Also, the music I listened to while writing were Pavane for a Dead Princess by Maurice Ravel (no princesses were harmed in composition), Morning Mood by Edward Grieg, and the Victorian Kitchen Garden Suite by Paul Reade. I'm still trying to find my style, and Frozen has much to work with...**

**Okay, bye!**


End file.
